Something St Paul never wrote…
So what if I can say anything I want, like other people, good and bad, do everyday? If I cannot express my anger, what am I but a hollow dried out gourd, a deflated tyre. I might put all the right words and sentiments together in the right order, I may share bright thoughts and new insights, what I say may cause the earth to change, but if anger remains repressed, what’s the point in that? I may donate everything I own, even my body parts, but what’s the point if my anger, such a key part of me, remains un-noticed?
Anger burns, slowly or quickly and engulfs everything; it blurts out, slaps down, flares up; it ferments, seethes, grows and as a result smothers a lot else; it feeds on injustice, real or presumed, it boils away leaving a painful crust, a life long scar. It’s always there, however faithful, hopeful or loving you try to be.
Anger is powerful and our failure to acknowledge this or give it space strengthens its power. What may have been a positive force for change is demonised and negated and becomes a many headed monster. It doesn’t matter what language you speak, if you do not give voice to anger then it will erupt violently somehow. Ignore it and it may pass, but it will be back.
To some, anger seems childish; part of a repertoire we should have left behind. As adults we are told we don’t need anger, but what if injustice continues? We struggle to understand our current experiences: how will we become whole unless we acknowledge the place of anger? God knows me and God knows anger.
If there are things that remain, like faith, hope and love, so much the better, but you shouldn’t ignore anger.
Janet Lees, 04.06.2020 in Longdendale.